


A Long Walk To The Bridge Of Size

by CorrineWrites



Series: Nobby Nobbs Saw Death [2]
Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: (aka Nobby's childhood), There's also Bluejohn Cheery & Carrot, but not enough to be worth listing properly as characters, canonical abuse mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 16:59:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6478483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorrineWrites/pseuds/CorrineWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobby Nobbs saw Death as a reassuring figure as the years passed; if Death was here, then there mustn't be any of Nobby's friends in need of his shepherding to the afterlife, right? But what happens when Death isn't where Nobby expects him to be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Long Walk To The Bridge Of Size

**Author's Note:**

> This is a follow-up to Nobby Nobbs Saw Death, although you don't have to have read it to read this (though it is short so you may as well). Set during the 'present' time of Night Watch & Thief Of Time. My deepest thank to Pintpotjudas for betaing/imput.

 

After the cemetery, Fred and Nobby made their way back to Pseudopolis Yard, and were just crossing Filigree Street on their way to Brass Bridge when Lance Constable Bluejohn came thundering up to them.

“Dey've found Carcer at der University! Commander Vimes is on his way der now!”

“Come on Nobby,” said Fred. “We have a duty to support our fellow officers in this time of crisis.”

“That's your decision, is it sarge?”

“Yes, Nobby.”

“And it's not anything to do with the fact that Bluejohn is already carrying us there?” Nobby called across the enormous troll's chest as they bumped and swung across the Cham.

“No it is not, on account of, I am a sergeant, and Bluejohn here wouldn't dare carry me under his arm like a sheep without my permission, isn't that right Lance Corporal?”

“Yes sergeant.” Bluejohn rumbled meekly.

“Right you are Fred!” Nobby replied cheerfully. “Stroke of luck he's at the university eh, they've always got good grub on. And it looks like it's going to piss it down in a minute.”

“Do you know Nobby,” said Fred, trying to keep his voice steady as he bounced around. “The thought never even crossed my mind.”

They found Cheery Littlebottom at the University walls, directing other members of the watch here and there. “Oh, Bluejohn, I'm glad you're here, get round to the Backs, would you? I'm trying to get a perimeter together, he's gotten up to the roof.”

“What about us, Cheery?” Nobby enquired, as Bluejohn made his way to the University's humbler buildings and Fred lowered himself to put his head between his knees in an attempt to recover from their brief but eventful journey.

“Oh, um,” Cheery hesitated briefly, looking around and ducking as an arrow clattered down near them. “Oh, dear. You'd better go up to the Bridge of Size, both of you.”

“You think he'll try and go that way?”

“I want to be sure we've covered everywhere.” She replied solemnly.

“Come on Fred.” Nobby said, patting his friend on the back and beginning to amble around the side of the building.

“Oh no, Nobby.” Said Fred, as another arrow whooshed past his head. “I'm not walking all the way around there with a madman on the roof with a crossbow; we'll go _through_ the university, thank you.”

“Are you sure about that? Those wizards can get pretty snooty about us poking around. Last time one of them had me turn out my pockets for cheeses!”

Fred thought about this, and concluded that the things in Nobby's pockets would shock even a wizard. “And did they find any?”

“Course not,” his friend replied with a touch of reproach. “I don't keep cheeses in my pockets.”

“Oh, no, of course.”

“Cheese keeps best under my helmet.”

They made their leisurely way through the ancient building, falling into their familiar plodding stroll. “Nice place this. I've always thought so. I used to come round the back for gutter scraps.”

“Gutter scraps? Surely you mean kitchen scraps, Nobby?”

“Nah, the street dogs got the kitchen scraps. I got what they left behind. You wouldn't believe how fussy some of them are, to look at them.”

“Hmm.” Fred nodded thoughtfully. It often made him uneasy when Nobby discussed his younger years. Which he did so quite openly and with every appearance of happy memories... but Fred remembered the snivelling boy who hung around the Watch house, who limped and flinched and shivered and gobbled down every morsel of offered food before you could say 'remember to chew'. A childhood like that left marks, beyond those that they both shared from wars and years of walking the beat. Fred wished he knew what to say about it, and so said nothing. “You're right though, it's a grand building. Bloody Stupid Johnson designed quite a bit, until they found him and got him to stop.”

“You're very knowledgeable about it Fred.”

“You pick things up Nobby, you pick things up.”

“I don't suppose you'd happen to know where we are, then?”

Fred looked around at the endless stone walls. “Damn. I'm sure they move things around to confuse people.”

They looked along the stony corridor. “We could try a few doors?” Suggested Nobby, world champion at shaking hands with doorknobs.

“In this place?” Fred shuddered.

“We-ell....” Nobby picked at a spot reflectively. “We could always ask someone. You know, like the housekeeping staff. They must know their way around even better than the wizards, right? So I'm sure if we find somewhere where there's always staff about...” Fred showed no sign of comprehension.

“The kitchens, Fred.” Nobby sighed.

“Ah, yes, good idea Nobby. Though I wish you wouldn't talk in rid- my word!”

They'd rounded a corner, following the faint smell of food – a foolish errand in UU, where everything smells of food thanks to the habit of wizards to hide snacks in their rooms, about their person and in ornamental vases – and had stepped through an archway to find themselves in the university library. People were congregating around the central well, looking up at the huge glass dome in the ceiling, on which two figures could be seen standing.

“That'll be Mister Vimes.” Fred observed as they stared upwards, blinking against the lightning.

“Should we go up and help, sarge?”

“Not on your life. Mister Vimes has the roof covered, we're much better off down here, point being, if Carcer drops through that dome we'll be in a prime position to apprehend him.”

“You think the glass will-”

There was a deafening crash of thunder directly overhead, and Nobby saw the two figures begin to drop through the huge space before he ducked his head against the rain of glass. When he emerged, it was to find a long, dagger-like shard stuck firmly into the ground not three inches from him.

“Blimey,” remarked Fred, shaking himself to dislodge the fragment littering his shoulders like glittery dandruff. “What the      was that?”

Nobby looked around. And looked around again. A figure he'd long ago stopped consciously expecting to see was conspicuously absent.

More wizards were running in to join the few that were already present and were now, between the silent tolling of the university's great bell, yelling about damage to their hats and 'eight dollars that cost, who's going to pay for that?'. The librarian was swinging from shelf to shelf, apparently comforting the books nesting there which were ruffling their pages with agitation.

“Where is he?” He wondered aloud, as next to him Fred said “They're not here!”

“What?”

“They couldn't      survived a fall like that, surely. But     fell though, didn't they? Did     see?”

Nobby shook his head mutely as the news sunk in. Mister Vimes and Carcer weren't here. _He_ wasn't here. A cold panic spread over his skinny body, settling in his stomach. “Oh no...”

He carefully picked his way around the glass now carpeting the floor like a deadly frost, and started to move deeper into the library, calling as he went. “Hey! Where     you? You're supposed    be here! This isn't fair!”

Fred was surprised to hear his friend's voice crack with emotion, and hurried after him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Come on     Nobby, they're not      . You know Mister       is clever, maybe-”

“Not them!” Cried Nobby, eyes wide. “Death!”

He shook loose of Fred's grip and ran off into the endless shelves.

“ _Death_?” Fred repeated, dumbfounded.

“Sergeant!” Captain Carrot's voice called from behind him. He turned to see the huge man moving through the library's main doors, followed by several other members of the Watch. “Are they here? Did     see?”

“Wh..? Oh, I, uh, no, we didn't.”

“Did you     where they went?”

“Well, that's     thing really. They were here, and      they weren't. They vanished.”

Carrot nodded solemnly at this news. “You said 'we?'”

“Nobby's here somewhere, but   's run off yelling about Death.”

“Death? Is    here?”

“Well, no. That's what    was upset about, don't ask me why.”

“You'd better go and find him Fred,    could run into anything in here. Keep an eye out for Commander Vimes and Carcer.” He added, as with the final silent stroke of the bell a large, foamy and naked wizard erupted into the room, with a small, worried and fully clothed wizard trailing after him.

Fred didn't particularly relish the idea of a wander through the library's depths, but he couldn't leave his friend in there alone, especially in the state he was in.

“Nobby?” He called, edging cautiously along the path between bookcases. The voices of watchmen and wizards faded almost instantly, drowned in the patient, drowsy quiet of the books. Whether or not this was due to a magical influence or just an effect of all libraries he didn't know, not having spent much time around books; anyone calling Fred Colon a bibliophile would soon find themselves arrested for slandering a member of the Watch. The quiet began to weigh on him though, it seemed almost expectant, and he was sure the books were whispering to each other as he passed.

“Nobby?” He called again, and was sure he heard a wet sniff from nearby, just around the corner, but when he got there, there was nothing. Only the books, staring from their spines at his intrusion. He turned back, only to catch the sound again, at once on the very edge of hearing and clearly right beside him. Every corner he turned yielded nothing, endless rows of shelves, crowded and desolate. “Nobby, if this is your idea of-”

He rounded the corner and there was Nobby, sat on the floor with knees drawn up to his chin, taking the deep, gulping breaths of someone on the other side of body wracking sobs and looking for all the world like the young urchin that used to hang around the Watch house in hope of a hot meal and a nearly shiny coin.

“He should be here, Fred! He's been there all the other times, I know something's wrong. And Carcer's disappeared with Mister Vimes and...” He trailed off in despair.

Fred was at a loss. There was a deranged murderer running about on roofs, who'd disappeared with Commander Vimes, his best friend was apparently losing his mind, and all of this on today of all days. As though things hadn't been bad enough, they hadn't even found anything to eat yet, despite the pervasive smell of bananas that lingered around the shelves.

“Nobby, will you please tell me what's going on?”

Nobby shifted, and stumbled to his feet. “I've seen Death a lot, ever since I was little. Any time things looked really bad, suddenly he'd be there. And then I'd be ok, I didn't die. I just sort, expect it now I s'pose. But this time he's not here, and Mister Vimes and Carcer have disappeared so I thought if.. maybe he's gone to wherever they are...” He trailed off looking worried, then asked, “You've seen him too sometimes, surely?”

“Well, of course, once or twice.” Fred conceded. Most of the Watch had at some time or another, it was a dangerous job. “But no-one can have that many near-death experiences!”

Nobby paused. Near death experiences? He'd never thought of them as being that, though looking back, he supposed so... could he really have been so close to dying all those times? The endless patrols, chaotic battlefields, at the hands of his father? Probably. Funny how things take on a new meaning like that. Death had just.. been there. Any time he was tired and cold and broken and scared, there had been that pale grin. Death had become, strange though it was, a reassuring presence, a sign that although things were bad, he'd be ok. Death might be with him, but had not yet come for him.

And now he was gone.

“It's not right Fred, he should be here.”

“Maybe you weren't actually close to death? So to speak?”

“What about all the glass?”

“That happened to me too, you don't see me complaining that the Soul Cake Duck hasn't turned up. It wasn't that bad.”

“A massive shard came this close to me, Fred!”

“Alright Nobby, alright.” Fred said in a pacifying tone. “I'm just trying to help. Look, we'll go back to the rest, I'm sure by now Mister Vimes will have turned up and he'll have chained Carcer to Detritus. Good luck to him trying to stab a troll, eh?”

Nobby still looked unsure, but nevertheless followed the sergeant back through the endless shelving.

“Does he uh... ever talk much to you?”

“Not really. He's just there. He told me to duck once.”

“Why?”

“Someone was swinging an axe at my head.”

Fred stopped mid step. “Are you telling me Death saved your life?”

“Uh... I suppose so. I mean,” Nobby rallied. “If anyone was to know it's not my time, it'd be him, right?”

As Fred considered this, Nobby frowned at their surroundings. “Say, Fred, how far into this place do you think we were?”

“Few bookcases. Why?”

“Then how come we've been walking for five minutes and we still aren't out?”

They looked about themselves, unease growing as they recalled the stories which filtered back from the university, of lost exploration parties and unrecovered recovery groups.

“Damn. Where's that bloody m- ape,” Fred corrected himself, because an enraged orang-utan is a friend to no weary traveller.* “Never around when you need him.”

“I don't think even he's been all the way in... they say the shelves move around, and you can hear weird voices. They say you can get to-”

“Unless they say you can get to the pub, I'm not interested.” Fred snapped. “Come on.”

He struck off in a random direction, following his stomach. He had little choice.

“Have you noticed,” asked Nobby after a while, “that no matter where we go, you can always see the dome? It's like them paintings that follow you round the room.”

“Oh yes, well-known phenomena that. Leonard of Quirm's Mona Ogg used to follow people for hours-”

“-until they chained her down, yes. Hang on..”

“What?”

 

 

*or anyone else, for that matter

 

 

“The dome! It's still a dome, it's not all smashed!” They stared upwards for a moment at the huge glass ornament, as whole and suspiciously clean – despite the city's enormous bird population – as always.

“Cor, yeah. That's weird. Maybe it hasn't reached this bit yet. Maybe if we stay here we can get a better view of it happening, we might be able to see where they went.”

“Stay here? We're trying to get out! This place gives me the right wossnames, I don't mind telling you.”

They hurried along avenue after avenue of books, past rich mahogany bookcases, stacks of old scrolls where the air smelt worryingly smoky, and rows of uninspiring grey metal shelves where the light was a curiously flat yellow. Nobby was growing nervous, and he could tell by the occasional waft of air that managed to penetrate even his permanent funk that Fred was too. What if they never got back, and wandered these aisles forever? What if they already were? Fred wouldn't ever see Mrs Colon again,and she was a nice lady who hardly ever threw things at Nobby. They wouldn't see the rest of the Watch either, all the humans and dwarves and trolls and gargoyles and gnomes and werewolf and zombie.... things had changed a great deal since Nobby had joined, but on the whole he considered it to be for the best. Time was you had a hard job arresting anyone who wasn't human for all his mates yelling discrimination, but now you could point to, say, Detritus, and offer to have him arrest them instead and suddenly they were very keen to go with you after all. Besides, they were a good lot, like a family to Nobby. Better, really, considering the family he'd come from. And it was only fair, wasn't it? There were loads of dwarves and trolls and stuff in the city now, it was alright with him if they wanted to see some of their own in the Watch. There was only one each of him and Fred in the whole city and they'd had a place in the Watch forever. Maybe in years to come there'd be more, a whole city full of Nobbses.* But for now it was just them, and perhaps this was where they'd end up, forever wandering the paths of the library like lost souls, like-

They rounded another corner in the deadly quiet into an area of darkness, broken only by a dim lamp held aloft by a disembodied hand. He and Fred (and, it seemed, a couple of other voices he couldn't see the owners of) screamed in terror.

It ought to be noted at this point that although Fred and Nobby were seasoned coppers, and on the Discworld no less, a world where six impossible things happened before breakfast so frequently that impossibility had now been outlawed between the hours of six and ten, hours spent in a mystical library not knowing whether a close fr-.. a long-standing boss, was dead or alive will put the wind up anyone. They ran.

Stopping only when they ran out of breath and were certain that whatever spectre they'd happened upon wasn't in pursuit, they flopped down in a pair of chairs someone had thoughtfully left at the end of a short run of shelves.

 

 

*Intuition told him not to raise this thought with Mister Vimes

 

 

“This,” wheezed Fred. “Is getting too much.”

Nobby nodded as Fred continued, too busy gulping air into his tattered lungs to give much heed to what his friend was saying. What had he been thinking? The University wasn't the sort of place to go running around in, anything could happen.

“We could have been killed!”

Ex-actly..... Nobby paused. He hadn't appeared to be doing all that much, but now there was a definite sense of pausing, strong enough that it attracted Fred's attention through the babble. “....what?”

“You're right.”

“I'm right about what?”

“What's the worst that could happen? We might die. To be honest Fred, after everything, I'm not too bothered. At least I'll get to give that git an earful for not being where he ought to.” Nobby hesitated. His feelings for his fellow Watchpeople aside, he knew he had nothing to lose. Fred did. “Of course, if you want to stay Fred, I wouldn't blame-”

“Blow that.” Fred stood up. “I'm not letting you go alone.”

Nobby was touched at this rare display of comradeship from his friend. “..thank you, Fred.”

“It'd be just my luck you'd find a way out and I'd stay stuck in here forever.”

They marched off, jaws squared and determination doing the job of courage. One way or another, they were getting out of here. 

Bookcase after bookcase filed past, rich wood and carpeted floors soon giving way to dark stone. Ahead a strange clicking sound, as of dice on tile, grew closer and a tall figure rounded the corner in front of them.

The Watchmen overcame their instincts this time and managed not to run. Or, Nobby did anyway, Fred was simply rooted to the spot.

“You!” YOU!

The dual cry rang around the stone chamber and was echoed by an apologetic squeaking sound in the region of Fred.

HOW DID YOU COME TO BE HERE? The unmoving face looked puzzled. IT IS.. NOT RIGHT.

“I'll tell you what's not right!” Nobby advanced on the bony figure and prodded it in the ribs. “Why weren't you in the University library like you were s'posed to be?”

I WASN'T AWARE THAT-

“I nearly got cut in half by a great lump of glass! Mister Vimes and Carcer were gone! You're always usually there and I didn't know what to do and you weren't _there_!”

This tirade brought Fred to his senses, namely the sense that his friend was berating Death himself and that probably wasn't a wise action. He darted forwards and grabbed Nobby, who was panting and rubbing at his teary eyes.

“Sorry Mister Death, sir.” Fred cowered as Death drew himself up. “It's been a difficult day...”

The figure glanced at him, then turned back to the snivelling Nobby. I AM THE ANTHROPOMOR- Death considered his audience, and tried to scale back his vocabulary. THE PHYSICAL MANIFEST- I AM DEATH! He boomed. I AM THE END OF ALL THINGS, THE GRIM REAPER, THE ULTIMATE INEVITABLITY! AND YOU ARE UPSET THAT I WAS NOT PRESENT TO WITNESS YOUR CONTINUING EXISTENCE?

“Yes” Said Nobby firmly.

Death appeared to soften a little, which was as far as it was possible for him to do. THEN I AM SORRY. I CAN SEE THAT IN THE CIRCUMSTANCES YOU MAY HAVE FELT, ERM... He floundered a little, at sea in the complicated world of human emotion.

“Abandoned?” Suggested Nobby.

ABANDONED. YES.

“So where were you?”

THERE HAS BEEN A PROBLEM WITH TIME. IT HAS COMPLICATED THINGS.

“What sort of problem?” Asked Fred, surfacing from his terror in the name of domestic harmony. “Because if I'm not home by half six my wife will-”

YOU NEED NOT BE CONCERNED. THERE ARE PEOPLE AT WORK ON IT.

“I thought you had some special thing with time, that you didn't have to worry about it? Like, diplomatic immunity.” Nobby inquired.

I CAN MOVE IN AND OUT AND THROUGH AND AROUND TIME. BUT YOU WERE CLOSE TO THE.. EVENT. AND IF YOU WERE IN THE UNSEEN UNIVERSITY LIBRARY, AMONGST A STRONG MAGICAL FIELD... THESE THINGS CAUSE INTERFERENCE. HOWEVER, IT IS POSSIBLE THAT ONCE MANY OF THE HOLES HAVE BEEN REPAIRED I WOULD BE ABLE TO ATTEND AS YOU WISH.

“...You are going to be there?”

IF YOU LIKE.

“But you already weren't there.”

YES.

“Well, correct me if I'm wrong here, but there's not much point in you taking a trip to the library say, next week or whenever, is there? I won't be there then.”

YOU MISUNDERSTAND. I WOULD BE GOING THERE NEXT WEEK EARLIER TODAY.

“Eh?”

“What he's saying is, Nobby, he'll see you there this time next week.”

“I'm not going back to that place, I've looked at more books than Leonard of Quirm! Anyway, what's going to happen to me next week that you need me there for?”

THAT'S NOT WHAT I-

“Only, my rent's due on Tuesday, but if I'm gonna die I think I'll spend those two dollars at the pub.”

NO! I EXIST OUTSIDE OF TIME, AND CAN STEP IN AND OUT OF IT AS I PLEASE. I STILL HAVE AN EXISTENCE HERE. ALTHOUGH NO TIME WILL PASS, IN THE MEASURE THAT YOU WOULD CONSIDER TO BE A WEEK IT MAY BE THAT I COULD BE IN THE LIBRARY TODAY. For the first time ever, Death was beginning to feel in need of a lie down.

Nobby and Fred processed this. “Riiiiight, ok. With you on that. But if I'm here because you're not there, but then you go there...”

I WOULD BE THERE FOR ANOTHER YOU. ONE FOR WHOM I WAS THERE.

“Another me?”

YES. THERE ARE AN INFINITE NUMBER OF UNIVERSES WHERE AN INFINITE NUMBER OF NOBBY NOBBSES LEAD DIFFERENT LIVES, ACCORDING TO VARYING CIRCUMSTANCES.

Nobby's idea about a city full of Nobbses was looking less off the mark than he'd thought.“Cor. So there's all these other mes, and all these other yous, right, and-”

THERE IS ONLY ONE ME. I EXIST OUTSIDE OF TIME.

“But if there's-”

DOES THE PHRASE 'WIBBLY WOBBLY' AID YOUR UNDERSTANDING AT ALL?

“Er... no?”

Death seemed to sigh. NOR MINE. YET IT APPEARS HELPFUL TO MANY.

“Uh.. correct me if I'm wrong, Mr Death, sir,” began Fred. “But... if there's all these other universes that have everything happen in them, then you go back and make it happen here...”

THEN THIS WILL BE THE UNIVERSE IN WHICH IT HAPPENS.

“But wh-”

Death held up a bony hand. IT DOES NOT GET SIMPLER WITH MORE DISCUSSION.

Nobby appeared to have been thinking. “So, right, what happens to us? Because we ended up here because you weren't there, but if you _are_ there, then we wouldn't be here, but we are actually here now, so what about that?”

THIS WOULD BECOME A PARADOX. A MINOR ONE, WHICH WOULD BE DEALT WITH BY DISCONTINUING THIS TIMELINE AND PROCEEDING WITH THE ALTERNATIVE. Blank stares. THIS BECOMES THE UNIVERSE IN WHICH I WAS AT THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY AS YOU EXPECTED, AND ANYTHING THAT EXISTS CONTRARY TO THAT – THESE EVENTS WHICH HAVE OCCURED SINCE – WILL CEASE TO HAVE BEEN.

This sank in. “So we'll stop existing?”

YOU WILL, BUT-

Fred and Nobby began hastily backing away. “Uh, no, you're alright thanks, don't want to put you to any trouble...”

I AM AFRAID THAT YOU DON'T- Death attempted to explain.

“No, really, as long as I know why you weren't there, and that Mister Vimes is ok – is he ok?”

Death paused, apparently weighing the price of imparting details of the future against freeing his home of wayward watchmen. I BELIEVE HE WILL RETURN TO YOU SHORTLY.

Nobby nodded. “In that case, you couldn't point us the way back could you? I don't fancy wandering all through that library again.”

THERE IS... A SHORTCUT. Truly, Death shouldn't be doing this. But he'd seen a lot of Cecil Wormsborough St John Nobbs throughout the.. individual's life, and had developed not a soft spot as such (without the aid of a cushion, Death had no soft spots), but _something_. Perhaps it was merely a perverse admiration for a being who, with little apparent effort, had managed to elude the inevitable over and over again.

FOLLOW ME.

He stalked through his library and into his wider domain, with Fred and Nobby at his heels, trying not to peer too closely at certain aspects of their surroundings. After a few twists and turns along the pathways of the curious garden, they reached a fog-shrouded bridge.

An old man was limping rapidly towards them, grey hair wild about his head, dressed in rags with one misty eye. USUALLY THERE IS A TEST, BUT IN THE CIRCUMSTANCES.. IT'S ALRIGHT MICHAEL, LET THEM PASS. Death addressed the man as he reached them. MY FRIENDS HERE WISH TO ARRIVE IN ANKH-MORPORK.

The man had slumped when he'd been told that there would be no test, his face a picture of grumpy disappointment, and now traipsed off towards the bridge, murmuring something about 'first time in forty years'. He fiddled with something on the bridge's ropes for a moment, then nodded to the waiting trio.

YOU WILL STEP OFF THE OTHER SIDE TURNWISE OF THE ANKH.

Nobby hesitated, one foot on the bridge. He felt as though there was something he ought to say, to do. He felt an attachment to Death, who had been there at all the worst moments of Nobby's sorry life. He struggled momentarily with the urge to hug the looming figure, overcame it, mumbled “um, thanks” and scurried across the bridge with Fred hurrying after him. Death watched them go.

Pushing through the thick curtain of fog, they found themselves suddenly on the edge of the Ankh, turnwise side as Death had predicted. In Wizards Pleasaunce to be exact, opposite the university grounds and close to the Bridge of Size. Of Death's bridge there was no sign, and no-one seemed to have noticed their arrival.

They took a moment to compose themselves, then headed towards the Bridge of Size as Cheery had directed them all that time ago.

“Nobby?” Asked Fred, after a minute or so.

“Yes sarge?”

“Is there anything you want to talk about, with all that? If so, do you think you could do it very soon?”

“I suppose so, Fred.”

“Thank you. It's just that after today, I want to forget that this whole thing ever happened.”

It was at that moment that Commander Vimes ran past, completely starkers.

 


End file.
